


Alchemy

by writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle (twoandahalfslytherins)



Series: Convenient Group of Femslash Fics [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aaron Burr/Alexander Hamilton (mentioned), Alexander Hamilton/Maria Reynolds (mentioned) - Freeform, Canon Era, F/F, Infidelity, Slightly Altered Timeline, Theodosia Burr/Aaron Burr (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7704649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoandahalfslytherins/pseuds/writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>In for a penny, in for a pound, there was no use skirting around the subject. No delicate way that she could put it. “Maria Reynolds was not my husband’s only affair.”</em>
</p><p> <em>Theodosia frowned. “Surely you do not think that I-”</em></p><p>  <em>It wasn’t until Eliza shook her head that the other implication seemed to hit. One hand flew to Theodosia’s mouth, and Eliza stared there at her wedding ring. Wondered if she would continue to wear it, the way Eliza was, with the metal burning into her skin, a reminder, a brand. </em></p><p><em>“I had suspected-” Theodosia started and then stopped, shook her head as if to gather herself- “But never with-” </em><br/>-</p><p>Can Eliza turn her husband's affair into a chance for her own happiness?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confessions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AozoraNoShita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AozoraNoShita/gifts).



If she stared long enough, perhaps Eliza would see the moment the ashes flickered in the fireplace. Turned humiliation into something else, something palatable, or at least something poetic. Something worth writing about, worth feeling, worth saying because lately, it seemed every word he wrote was stolen from her chest. Maybe those dying embers could turn her silence into something other than gut rot and ache.

After all, things had been turning all around her. Angelica’s ship when she’d heard the news, her own stomach when she saw the book, the pretense of her marriage turned into the shambles of an unbenign honesty.

Honestly, she was exhausted, and yet she couldn’t sleep. No place in her home safe from another woman’s scent, from the ghost of her own feelings. She couldn’t lie in her bed any longer wondering if this was where they’d done it, couldn’t sleep in his office, couldn’t sleep in the parlor where he must have whisked her inside.

So instead, she stared at the dying fireplace, trying to ignore the body hovering in the doorway.

Decided that he, too, was a ghost.

As if that could have excused his deathbed confessionals uttered years too soon.

“Betsey-” If she had her words, she might have yowled like a cat at the familiarity he no longer deserved, it’s barbs pressing into her already fragile skin- “You must understand, I was given no choice.”

Did he mean the woman, the lies, or the public truth?

Did it even matter?

Alexander, her foolish, cruel Alexander, took another step closer so that he was blocking her view of the fireplace. Funny, how the flickering light around him only added to the feeling of haunting that consumed her.

“Elizabeth-” Better that, better he not further soil the little fond memories she had left- “There is something more I must tell you.”

What did he expect her to say? Was he waiting for some sign that she was listening? That she cared? Foolish, naive, and cruel.

Without a response, he barreled onward. “They were after my scent, I could not with good conscience let them know there was another. Better to fall on this sword than set a whole town aflame.”

Another. For the first time that night, she opened her mouth. Closed it again when the words twisted themselves in her throat. Physical manifestations of an emotional pain. Perhaps she would go see a doctor soon, perhaps they would be so kind as to predict a sudden end.

Except she could not leave her children behind.

No matter. She would endure.

But she had to know what she needed to survive. “What was her name?”

Silence. Soft fabric twisted beneath her fingers as she contemplating moving forward. So far she had burned every copy of that blasted pamphlet that showed up at her door, burned the letters, the apologies. Maybe next the linens, or the entire bed. Open the windows for the smoke and the ghosts to escape.

“There was no other woman-” But he had just said- the implication struck her and Eliza rose. Walked as quickly as she could past that ghost of a man so that she could retch, but he only followed- “You must understand why I could not let this information get out.”

There had been rumors. There had been teasing and lightness, jokes about the boys during the war. But that could be forgiven, desperate young men terrified for their lives, giving the ultimate sacrifice. Who could deny them such primal comforts?

But after? With a wife in his bed- and she had been. She had been a good wife, always receptive, always open. Or at least she’d tried.

“It was not my intention, my dearest, sweetest Eliza-” Again with the familiarity that he had forsaken, but Eliza refused to sob, refused to show her defeat- “It was only a few times. Late nights at the office when wills were weak and we’d had perhaps too much to drink. Before he betrayed his ideals and switched sides.”

Office. Before. Surely not- “Burr?”

Eliza closed her eyes. Pushed herself back to her feet, passed the ghost and headed back to her bedroom. The ghost could put out the fire when he made his bed there, far from her. Unwilling to light a candle, she walked slowly down the hallway, one hand to the side to feel her way there. Laid down on top of the covers.

In the morning, he was gone. She could have laid back down, pretended that the conversation never happened. But she couldn’t. So instead she set out on a mission to set things as right as she could.

It took all of her strength not to dress in the rituals of mourning. To ignore the stares as she climbed out of the carriage. There were matters to attend to and as there was no point in denying that they knew what they knew there was no point in giving them anything else to titter about. Let not one of them call her weak.

A few minutes walk finally brought her to her destination, an almost modest home considering it’s occupants. She took a moment to gather herself, allowing the cool air to soothe her before walking up the steps and knocking at the door.

When it opened a girl greeted her, pulling her inside and away from prying eyes. “I am afraid if you were hoping to catch Dad, he is at the office, ma’am.”

“Thank you, sweet Theo, I was actually hoping you could direct me to your mother?”

Theo nodded, braids bobbing as she did. Quietly Eliza followed behind her guide to the drawing room. Theodosia looked up from her sewing, smiling sadly when she noticed who her guest was. “My dear Eliza, is there anything I can do for you during this time of need? A drink perhaps?”

Eliza shook her head, and Theodosia dismissed her daughter before referencing for Eliza to take a seat in front of her. “Lighten your heavy heart with the knowledge that whatever is said will go no further than this room.”

Would she be so kind when she understood why Eliza had come knocking on her door? Could Eliza in all good conscious take advantage of her hospitality before sharing what she knew? “I am afraid I did not come on a social call, in the midst of my husband’s public shame he made a further confession that I could not allow to pass without comment.”

If it ever came to light, Theodosia deserved to know before the press did. The woman in question sat her sewing aside, folding her hands atop her knee instead. “Yes?”

In for a penny, in for a pound, there was no use skirting around the subject. No delicate way that she could put it. “Maria Reynolds was not my husband’s only affair.”

Theodosia frowned. “Surely you do not think that I-”

It wasn’t until Eliza shook her head that the other implication seemed to hit. One hand flew to Theodosia’s mouth, and Eliza stared there at her wedding ring. Wondered if she would continue to wear it, the way Eliza was, with the metal burning into her skin, a reminder, a brand.

“I had suspected-” Theodosia started and then stopped, shook her head as if to gather herself- “But never with-”

Unable to help herself, Eliza continued, “Will you confront him?”

Would Theodosia do what she could not? Would she leave him? Divorce was frowned upon, but it was not impossible. Especially not for a woman with Theodosia’s means.

“I do not think I could,” Theodosia smiled bitterly. “There are those who suspected that ours was not a love-match but a political move. Perhaps if so it would not hurt so much.”

It was a feeling that Eliza knew all too well. Part of her wished to stay, to comfort this woman with her grief so familiar, but she also knew the truth. It was entirely likely that Theodosia would consider her honesty unkind, just as she had considered Alexander’s.

With that in mind, Eliza tugged at her skirt. “Would you like me to leave?”

Theodosia nodded slowly. “I think that would be for the best. But please, hold me to the same courtesy that I offered you.”

“No one will know,” Eliza promised as she stood. “Be well, Theodosia.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Where’s daddy?”

Eliza froze in her space at the stove. Angelica had left the kids with her again for the first time since the news and she wasn’t sure how much they knew or what she was supposed to say. Mentally tried to rehearse a script.

Was saved by Phillip. “Work. Come on John, you know better than to bother momma while she’s cooking. That’s how accidents happen.”

While little John accepted that easily, Junior didn’t. “Why’s he at work so early? We haven’t seen him since Auntie Ang brought us back from the lake.”

No, Alexander had at least given her that small bit of dignity. Offered her space in hopes that it would ease her heart toward forgiveness. Eliza wasn’t sure it could be bought that easily. “You know what an important man your father is. Maybe after you’ve had your supper, Phillip will take you to see him- or Angie.”

Phillip’s glare softened a little at that, though Eliza doubted that her daughter was any more willing to see her father just yet. Thankfully she’d been able to stop the train of information there, with only her eldest children aware of just why their father wouldn’t be around.

After they ate, Angie begrudgingly made sure that John and Junior were ready before making her way to Alexander’s work, with promises to be back by dark. Phillip, unsurprisingly, stayed behind. A stranger on the street had thrust the pamphlet upon him before they’d been able to tell him. Most likely he’d forgive Alexander at some point, he’d been such a papa’s boy before that moment, had always admired the man for all that he was worth- but for now, he could barely stand the sound of his name for the shame he’d brought upon their once proud family.

“I’ll wash that,” he said as he picked up the pot she’d sat down on the counter. “Go rest, all this stress can’t be good for the baby.”

The baby. Little William, if it were to be a boy or Elizabeth should Angelica gain a sister. Eliza rubbed her swollen stomach in contemplation before deciding that he was right, she could do with a moment’s peace. “I’ll be in my room, should you have need of me.”

She had not burned the bed, though there were new sheets upon it. She’d even dragged old blankets out of storage to replace the one that usually covered her at night. Eliza laid on top of them now, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling above.

Angelica would be leaving for London within the fortnight, but in the meantime, she had promised to watch after the children as much as she could. Had even offered to take them to the lake again, if it pleased Eliza.

All of it felt like stalling the inevitable. Alexander’s public confession meant that even the little one inside of her would one day know what had come to pass. How long would she be able to spare them? Protect them?

The thoughts only encouraged her anger. How dare he? Sully their good name, sully their marriage bed. Could he even be believed that there were only two blemishes? How many others had he possibly paraded through her bed? Had he laughed at how foolish a wife he had, to believe him faithful? To believe that he was really at work, that he was so busy that he could not find the time for her?

If not her, how could he have not thought of their children? For a man so obsessed with his legacy, how could the effects have passed his notice?

“Mother?” A quiet voice beckoned from the doorway and Eliza sat up to see Phillip hanging there.

Gangly Phillip, not yet settled into his lengthened limbs. She patted the foot of the bed, offering him a place to sit, though he turned her down. “There’s a woman at the door, she says she has business with you and only you.”

Unsure of who it might be, but unwilling to be rude, Eliza stretched as she stood. “If you would not mind showing the lady to the drawing room and offering her some tea. I will be there as fast as I can.”

When she finally made it to the drawing room, she was surprised to find Theodosia there, dressed in a beautiful silk gown and sipping a cup of tea. “Theodosia, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“If this isn’t a good time-”

Eliza cut her off- “That wasn’t to say that you are unwelcome. Angie has taken the rest of the children to go see their father. I am sure Phillip is now elsewhere tending the house. He does so worry these days about my health. How can I be of service?”

Theodosia stalled a moment longer, seemingly gathering her resolve. “I didn’t know where else to turn. They say a burden shared is a burden halved and yet there were no ears I wished to tell my tale. I imagine you find yourself in a similar position.”

Perhaps she had it easier, yet. The public scandal had its faults but at least Angelica was there for her, at least people knew the half of it. Were willing to share their pity and condolences. Theodosia had no one but her own unfaithful husband to turn to. “There is a strangeness to it. For the world to know so much, and yet-”

“Yet so little.” Theodosia fiddled with her tea a moment, dropping a bit of sugar inside the cup. “I understand if you would rather not see me, but I thought- I find myself wandering the house too often these days. Unable to concentrate. Theo is quite worried and Aaron thinks it my health that has me so withdrawn.”

“He does not suspect that you know?”

Theodosia shook her head. “I do not wish him to. To think, my frail health has finally seen some benefit.”

“I am sorry that it has come to that, you deserve your health and your happiness.” That and so much more. Theodosia was as impressive of a woman as they came, with a wit that rivaled Angelica’s at times, and a softness that was to be admired.

From the outside, she and Aaron had seemed so happy together. Aaron, so soft spoken usually, so proud of their daughter. Proud of his wife.

Had they discussed that as they laid together? Her Alexander and Theodosia’s Aaron? Had they besmirched their wives to justify what they were doing? Or worse, had they used soft words to talk of them, never thinking of the heartache their union would cause?

Was that better or worse than the idea that they had not spoken of them at all?

“I do not wish to dwell on it,” Theodosia said, as if a mind reader. “But I do think there would be a kindness in company that knew. That did not ask me of his health or speak with jealousy regarding our arrangement. I think it might do you some good as well.”

Eliza shifted, unsure. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

“Nothing grand.” The fire crackled, and Eliza found her eyes drawn to it. Theodosia was still wearing her wedding ring, but how had she grieved? Had she turned significance into ashes as well? “But perhaps you would like to get tea now and then. Or go for a walk in the park, when your health will allow it? I only propose a regular distraction of some sort.”

A place to go, something to do. Away from the kids and hopefully from prying eyes- it sounded perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me for writing related questions/prompts/all that jazz at writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle on tumblr. This is part of the wlw fic exchange where I am offering to write 3-5k fics as a gift for those who write at least 1k fics featuring a femslash couple. I'm currently trying to have the next chapter at least halfway done before I post one- these gift fics are taking precedence over my other open fics until they're done.


	3. Chapter 3

The next time that Theodosia called on her, the children were at the market with Angelica. Eliza had just finished cleaning the dishes from a small midday meal when the knocking came.

“Theodosia,” Eliza greeted as she opened the door for her.

“I hope this day sees you well,” Theodosia said as she stepped inside. “And please, call me Theo. We’re all friends here.”

Friends of strange circumstance, but friends none the less. “If it pleases you. May I ask what you have planned for the day?”

Theodosia glanced back to the door, one hand smoothing down imaginary wrinkles on red skirt. “I thought perhaps a walk before you are too heavy with child to travel?” 

It was a kind consideration to make. If this pregnancy followed the same as her last, it wouldn’t be long before she was bedridden. And this time with no Alexander to help with the children. Thankfully Phillip and Angie were of age to help, though she hated relying on them so. 

“Allow me a moment to gather my purse and leave a note.” Eliza swallowed as she held the quill, dipping it into the ink to tell Angelica and the children where she had gone. Purposely bit down the memories of the nights she’d sat with Alexander’s head in her lap, listening to him dictate once his wrists were too sore to write himself.

Once she’d held those memories with such fondness, to have been trusted with his thoughts.

A hand on the table startled her, Theodosia looking concerned. “If you are too ill-”

“No, no,” Eliza hastily stated, grasping at her one chance of escape. “Merely caught up in a memory.”

If only she could burn those too.

“When Theo was in the womb, she was quite the fusser,” Theodosia confided. “Should you need it, I have an arm to help.”

“Of course.” Eliza reached up, pushing a lock of her hair from her face that had escaped its place in her cap. Theodosia’s was free, curls held back mostly by her hat. It was a bucking of conventions to not have it up completely, but if there was anyone that could pull it off, it was her. “Shall we go?”

It was late enough in the day that the air had cooled but was not yet chilled, and Eliza couldn’t help but enjoy herself. Theodosia kept her word, walking with her through the nearby park with their arms hooked together.

They must have looked quite a sight, but Eliza refused to think on such things. Instead listened with a keen ear as Theodosia shared some of the local gossip that she’d acquired. Apparently, there was another coffee house to be opened soon, though the likelihood of women such as themselves being invited was slim.

“Your sister, Angelica, she spends quite a bit of time in London these days, does she not?” Theodosia asked as they began to circle around and make their way back toward the house.

“With everything that happened-” Eliza exhaled slightly, glad that she didn’t have to explain the many layers there- “She’s spending another week or so here. Then she’ll be back on her way to that side of the pond.”

“I’ve heard,” Theodosia pulled her to the side as she spoke, keeping them out of the main walkway. “That there are salons there and in Paris that are simply phenomenal. Places where both men and women can contribute. With politicians and poets and artists- and better yet, I’ve heard there are even some just for women.”

The idea of a place away from all the men, where they would be allowed to discuss and be political and intelligent beings instead of simply homemakers, was fascinating.

“Angelica has a friend, Maria Cosway over in Paris,” Eliza shared. “There’s been talk of her opening up a girls’ school. If there was ever one to belong in a woman’s salon, it’s her. Her husband does miniatures and she’s also a beautiful artist if Angelica is to be believed.”

It was too much information, but Eliza wasn’t sure what else to say. Her knowledge of politics extended as far as her father and husband’s comings and goings and while an admirer of art, she’d never picked up a craft. Maybe that was what she would do with her newfound free time.

“We were talking about going to France at some point-” Theodosia’s tight smile meant she didn’t have to clarify who we meant- “Once the war was over. But it seemed time slipped away from us and we’ve grown complacent.”

Funny how that seemed to happen. How dreams turned to might-have-beens. Hopes turned to bitterness. “Maybe one day you will. With or without him. I am sure Angelica would be delighted to have you.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest that they go together. But that was silly, after all, they weren’t that close. To suggest running away together to the other side of the world, even if only for a month, would be a folly.

Eliza hadn’t engaged in such wishful thinking since Alexander had courted her, building such beautiful places with his words. Such promises.

To think, once, she’d thought he’d delivered on them. 

Still, it would be nice, Eliza thought as she and Theodosia started walking again. They could even take the children. No one would think twice about Eliza bringing a friend to visit her sister and Theo Jr. was around Phillip’s age. It would be nice to see him spending time with another teenager instead of always tending to the little ones. And Angelica was always saying that she wanted more opportunities to be there for the children.

Maybe one day, when she wasn’t so heavy with child.

Theodosia stopped them when they were just outside Eliza’s home and Eliza stumbled slightly at the suddenness of it. Theo wrapped an arm around her to keep her from face-planting. “Careful, we wouldn’t want to see anything happen to you.”

“Sorry about that-” Eliza straightened her silk apron and grown as she righted herself-“Would you care to come in for some tea?”

Or coffee, or beer. Anything to keep Eliza from walking into an empty house alone. Theodosia shook her head, though. “I’m afraid I must turn down your hospitality. Theo has French lessons tonight, and I need to speak with her tutor.”

“Of course.” Eliza took a step, hyper aware of the way Theodosia’s arm followed her as if anticipating another fall. “I know how it is. Anything for the children. You’ll be safe in your travels?”

Theodosia tilted her head to the side for a moment, fingers tapping before she snapped suddenly. “There’s a play in a few weeks, I think it’s even a comedy. I could do with some humor, couldn’t you?”

A small glimmer of hope.


	4. Chapter 4

They only managed a few walks before pregnancy did prove too much for such things. But between Royall Tyler’s _The Contrast_ and Shakespeare’s _Othello_ , not to mention a slew of musicians, Theodosia never failed to deliver. Her presence always guaranteed a delightful time.

They didn’t speak much on the subject of their husbands, something that Eliza appreciated dearly. A chance to get away, a chance to not think about it. No pitying look, no hushed whispers, no commentary about why he might have done it. Of either of their lackings. Simple companionship at it's core.

On occasion, when Eliza’s feet were too swollen or her head swam too much, Theodosia would sit by her bedside. With Angelica gone, the woman became more acquainted with her children. Phillip and Angie both had stopped bothering to fetch Eliza before bringing Theodosia into the drawing room, would even escort her to the bedroom if Eliza wasn’t feeling well enough to stand.

She was quickly becoming John’s favorite, had even brought him one of Theo’s old toys, a rocking horse that he giggled while riding. Twice she’d taken him and Junior outside to blow bubbles, laughing with the children as Eliza leaned against the wall and watched.

The day before last she’d even brought flowers, though Eliza suspected that they were regifted. Theodosia unable, undesiring of a gift from her own husband. Eliza couldn’t fault her, though, and they were beautiful sitting on the table.

A pleasant splash of color, something to focus on as she ignored the ghost in the room.

“Eliza,” the ghost tried to walk around the table, to be in her field of vision, but she just turned her head. “This has gone on for too long. We can’t keep living like this. My son will be here soon and you need-”

“You have no business telling me what I need.” Orchids. That’s what the flowers were. Had Aaron caught on to his wife’s cold shoulder or were they a surprise gift?

The kind that Alexander once gave her? Heavy with the guilt of an affair not yet made public? The ones she had delighted in so much? Considered a sign that their courtship would never end?

How context had turned such a thing as gifts into something to be scorned and examined.

“I have apologized, I have slept in my office, I do not know what more you could want from me-” A way to go back in time, his silence, his removal from their home, for him to stop presuming he knew what was best for their family. The family she kept together while he was off sewing his oats in greener pastures- “I wish to come home, Eliza. A boy needs his father.”

“And if it is a girl? Shall she do without you?”

The ghost sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Are you sure?” Eliza turned to look at him, and how funny it was to see flesh and bone. “Because as of late, it seems that the women I know would be better off without the interference of man.”

“That’s foolish nonsense, and you know it. Stop being so rash.” Unable to stand still any longer, Alexander paced. “I’ve done well enough with Angie, haven’t I?”

Angie who could barely stand him. Angie who kept a stiff upper lip and brought the other children to visit him, who tolerated him for their sake. As a woman would mold herself. Too young to be expected to shoulder that burden. Perhaps she wasn’t the best example to use.

Eliza’s gaze shifted back to the flowers, tired of dealing with him. Centered herself along a memory of walking through the gardens with Theo. How young she’d felt laughing with the woman.

How old she felt with him. “How did you know?”

The sounds of movement stopped. “How did I know what?”

“You were going to-” There was no point in trying to soften the blow, was there? Eliza swallowed-” have an affair?”

Had there been signs? After all, it’d happened more than once, he must have had some warning that he chose to ignore. Had he told himself that it wasn’t going to happen again? Once? Twice? For years? To hear him tell it, Maria Reynolds was either half mad or an evil seductress and yet she was just a woman.

A woman he had brought into their bed. A scared young thing, trying to escape the life handed to her by men. What would Eliza have done if she'd come to her instead? Would she have sent her away? Would she have denied her comfort?

It was impossible to know. Because all that would be remembered of Maria Reynolds was what he wrote of her.

Would Burr have earned the same treatment? Was that her fate as well? To be cast in the most negative light possible as soon as she was no longer convenient?

Their love turned into slander? Perhaps a match made for money, or her, the social climber with the keen eye for a young man under George Washington’s wing? What was her role in his story? Manipulator? Or too dim-witted to see she was being manipulated?

Too close, suddenly he was too close again, and Eliza opened her eyes only to watch him step back, holding one of the flowers. “Who is he?”

“He?”

For once, it wasn’t her avoiding eye contact. “This man you’re so afraid you’re going to have an affair with. That’s why you asked, correct? An old friend? Or a new acquaintance? Did he swoop in to comfort you when I fell from grace?”

There was no man. Hercules, one of his old war buddies, had stopped by a few times to make sure that she was getting on alright, but he'd never had less than pure intentions. Jefferson had sent her a letter of 'apology', more interested in taunting her husband's downfall than in playing the white knight. No, no man had tried to fill the void, and for that she was grateful.

But Alexander wasn’t done. “Do you find yourself thinking of him, when you’re tired? Calling upon his memory when you’re angry? Missing him even when you’d only just saw him? Doing what you must to keep him around just a little longer? Inviting him inside even when you’ve been together for most of the day? Reveling in the smallest of touches? Doing anything you can to get a reaction?”

Was he talking about Maria or Burr?

Had Alexander pined over Aaron the way she’d pined over Alexander? Found himself drawn to an immovable force, only to find out one day that it could be moved? Touched? Caressed?

There was quiet for a moment as Alexander placed the flower back in the vase. “Who is he? I haven’t any right to be mad if that is your worry? Who is bringing you flowers and keeping you company these days?”

That was a question she could answer. “Theodosia. ”

Alexander laughed, and she stared, unsure of what had prompted such an emotion. There was nothing humorous about this situation. Nothing at all.

“It’s fitting, isn’t it? I run off with her husband, she woos my wife.” He said after he’d collected himself from the hysterics. “You have my blessing.”

To what? Bed a woman? While she was heavy with his child? To have an affair? Risk exposing their children to even more scandals? To find happiness in the arms of someone else?

Eliza rubbed at her face, unsure of what she was supposed to say in response. If a response was even expected at all.

When Alexander started to leave, she sighed. “You may sleep in your study if you are serious about being there for your children rather than out of having grown tired of your office."

Without turning around, he nodded slowly. "Thank you. I will do my best to make sure you have no reason to regret it."

And so the ghost turned human, the deadly blow, glancing.


	5. Chapter 5

A thin beam of light hit her face, rousing Eliza from her slumber. Earlier in the day she’d stumbled and Phillip had insisted she rest for a while and so she’d laid down. Allowed herself to dream of another life, of untaken chances. But the wisps of what might have been turned into the awareness that she still had the day to face.

When she rolled onto her side, she froze, for the first time noticing Theodosia there, needle in hand as she stitched up what appeared to be one of John’s stockings. “You’re awake,” the woman smiled as she said it, carefully tying a knot in her work. “Phillip let me in and I noticed one of the little one’s had a run when I came through. I thought I’d make myself useful.”

“That is far too kind of you.” Mindful of her own midsection, Eliza pushed herself up as far as she could.

Theodosia leaned over to help tuck a pillow behind her back, and Eliza swallowed. Perhaps it was simply the conversation she’d had with Alexander, but she was suddenly conscious of how little she was wearing. This late in her pregnancy she’d abandoned her laced stay while around the house, even her silk apron and some of the petticoats had found themselves out of fashion while she battled with her own little heater. 

Gentle hands pulled the blanket back over her house robes, smoothing the fabric out over Eliza’s lap before Theodosia returned to her seat. “I heard rumor that the prodigal son has returned home.”

Because of course, she could never be granted peace from rumors. The world felt entitled to know what Alexander had done, to know how she had reacted. Salivated at the thought of the next bit of news. 

“I would hardly call him that.” Still wasn’t sure what to call him, what he was to her. Her husband, surely, if only in title where he had once been dear. “But Alexander has been given permission to sleep in his study. He wished to be close to his children again.”

“The study? Not your bed?”

An innocent question. Or perhaps not. What had Alexander said? That it was fitting? Had Theodosia been trying to woo her? Or was it just a question. A scorned woman’s curiosity on the state of forgiveness. Perhaps wondering if it was possible to return once the truth was out.

It was like they said, though, once the cat was out of the bag… It would take a lot more than an interest in their children for Alexander to worm his way back into her heart. Earn her trust again. If it were even possible after everything that he’d done.

Eliza stared at the quilt at the foot of the bed. A gift from her mother back when she’d been pregnant with Phillip. How delighted she’d been for Eliza to finally have a family of her own. Sometimes she wondered what her mother would have thought of this. Even Angelica, who had been so thoughtful in the beginning, wrote that she needed to find her terms and move on with it. That the children needed their father.

Her own terms. Alexander’s blessing. Eliza turned to look at Theodosia again. “There’s only one person I want in my bed, Theo. And it is not him. Not now.”

“Have you found another?” Theodosia sounded curious.

Hope fluttered in her chest and she batted it down, still so unsure. Didn’t want to risk it turning into bitterness as so many other things had. Better to test the waters than to drown.

“I am afraid it is looked down upon,” was all that Eliza could make herself say.

Theodosia tilted her head to the side. “Because you are married?” 

That was one part of it, of course. Eliza swallowed. “There is more than that.”

“Because he is married?” Eliza shook her head, slowly, unsure how much longer she wanted to walk down this road. Aware that with every new piece of information she was giving herself away. “Because he is not a he at all?”

Eliza closed her eyes, unwilling to search the other woman’s face for the judgment that might rest there. “I understand if you are appalled.” 

“May I lie next to you?” When Eliza started to say that she was with child, Theodosia cut her off. “I am asking for nothing more than that. I wish only to lie with you.”

A small nod and a hand gently brushed her face. Eliza didn’t open her eyes again until a weight caused the bed to dip behind her. “I was not sure-”

“Shh.” Theodosia reached out to stroke her swollen belly. “The children will think nothing of it if they find us here. There will be time to talk later, for now, so why don’t you lay back again. Rest for a while longer.”

Eliza allowed herself to be coaxed until she was on her side again, gazing upon the face that she had grown to know so well. Said nothing as Theodosia reached out once more, fingers tracing along her face, lingering over her lips.

A question unasked, and Eliza could not help herself, she kissed those fingertips. Just as softly and gently as Theodosia kissed her moments later, body tipped forward but careful not to disturb what lay lower still.

“I want-”

Theodosia shook her head, cutting her off once more. “When the fall comes, and you are once again with bounce in your step- there will be time for that, and so much more.”

In the fall. For the first time in months, the thought of time passing did not turn her stomach or fill her with dread.

Perhaps, this time, it would turn hopes into actualities. “We could visit my sister in London. Once the baby is well enough to travel. I would think I have earned that right, for a bit of time away.”

“That and so much more,” Theodosia reassured her. “Here to the fall, and all it will bring.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for going on this journey with me! I hope you enjoyed the story, your comments and kudos mean so much to me. 
> 
> You can find me over at writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle on tumblr if you have any writing related questions/prompts


End file.
